


Nuova Atlantide

by AlphAOmegA151



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Allusions to MOTHER 3, Allusions to Rise of the Guardians, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Character Death?, Denmark (Hetalia) (Cameo), Finland (Hetalia) (Cameo), Gen, Gratuitous Use of Foreign Languages, Iceland (Hetalia) (Cameo), Inaccurate use of foreign languages, Intensive abuse of Google Translate, Norway (Hetalia) (Cameo), OOC intensifies by the paragraph, Shippings depend on how you squint, Shippings if you squint hard, Sirens, Sweden (Hetalia) (Cameo)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphAOmegA151/pseuds/AlphAOmegA151
Summary: Set in an alternate universe where Venice, the heart of North Italy, is eventually drowned by global warming-induced flooding.Italy Veneziano dies and reincarnates as a siren, haunting the underwater streets of New Atlantis, once known as Venezia.Any ship is possible if you squint hard enough.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspirations:   
> Axis Powers Hetalia/Hetalia World Stars (characters)  
> Hetaloid City of Water PV (characters, some plot and concept)  
> APH Doujinshi Dolfin (worldview, flooded Venice, dead and reincarnated Veneziano, gondola scene)  
> Rise of the Guardians (concept/worldview, character cameo)  
> MOTHER 3 (character names/cameos)  
> Current events (global warming, rising water level, etc.)  
> Various mythologies and folklore (worldview, characters)
> 
> Italics: thought or underwater speech (as sound does not travel well underwater, plus siren songs (presumably their voices) are magic, so some form of mental communication would be better suited for the purposes of siren communication)

The first thing he sees is the ruins of a city. 

He doesn't know how he came into existence, he just  _ is _ . Sure, he doesn't know much about the world he's in, but he does know the basics - how to communicate, how to stay alive, what he can do. 

What he doesn't have, though, is a purpose. Why is he here?

He speeds into the ruins (much faster than he would have expected, despite having no prior experiences to reference it to), hoping to find an answer. 

* * *

He names himself Venezia, after seeing it on a sign and deeming it a nice-sounding word. 

It seems familiar and  _ right _ , somehow, and he has no idea why. 

That doesn’t concern him much, though.

* * *

Venezia wonders why he's trying to walk despite having a tail and not having seen anyone walk before. 

Of course, the question "why does he know what walking is" is far more sensible for anyone in his place, but to him, it seems far too natural to even question. 

He's not alone in these ruins. There are others like him, others who have been here longer than he. 

Having company is nice, and they teach him things he doesn't already know - how to hunt and scavenge for resources. 

They tell him that their kind are sirenes, sea dwellers with beautiful scales and even more beautiful voices to match. He learns that sirenes are effectively immortal as long as they remain underwater, where nothing can or will hurt them. 

_ In that case _ , Venezia asks,  _ why would we need to hunt and scavenge in first place? _

The others share a chuckle at his naivete. 

_ For fun and enjoyment, of course _ , replies one of the elder sirenes. 

Venezia pushes away the inherent wrongness he feels at that statement. 

_ They're sirenes, it's in their nature to do such things, _ Venezia tells himself, without pausing to wonder why he does not think of himself as one of the sirenes.

* * *

Venezia realizes that the word "Venezia" pops up a lot in that area. Like, a  _ lot _ . It’s almost everywhere.  _ Maybe that's the name of this place _ , he thinks. 

He seeks out the wail of sirenes, and asks them for the name of the land. They reply that the waters are named New Atlantis, after the name of the great Atlantean Empire.

He returns the name "Venezia" to the land anyway because sharing a name with the land he lives on is(n't) strange according to the sirenes, and dubs himself Ven. Why was he so sure that the name of the land was Venezia, despite the sirenes explicitly telling him otherwise? He doesn’t know.

According to the sirenes, the only one who shares a name with the waters is Atlanta, the queen of the Atlantean Empire. Ven isn’t sure if he can live up to those high, high expectations.

* * *

Ven learns that the world isn’t just made up of sirene and fish. One of the sirenes (Phrygia, if he remembers correctly) tells him of the other creatures that reside under or above water - undines and naiades, sylphs and phoenixes, satyrs and trolls… all of it is fantastical and novel to him, despite sirenes being equally exotic.

That changes when he hears about humans.

As Phrygia tells him about the magically inferior species that lives above water, Ven can’t help but feel longing - nostalgic, almost - to be able to see (or even join) the humans someday, and experience life from their perspective. Despite their magical inability and detrimental acts to nature, he can't help but be enamoured by the prospect of human life, for some reason.

Phrygia unknowingly shatters his hopes and dreams when she mentions that humans can’t even see or touch them due to their magical ineptitude and lack of belief in the mystical. She says that avoiding them would have been a concern some few hundred years ago, but what’s the point in avoiding something (no, someone) that can’t see or touch you?

Well, at least he’s free to watch humans as much as he wants.

* * *

And watch humans he does. Or, well, tries to. There’s not much above New Atlantis, unfortunately - it’s mostly water. Even Venezia seemed more “human” than this expanse of water. Sure, there are sparse walkways and the occasional human construct, but overall it was pretty quiet, much unlike what little he knew of humans from Phrygia (and his instincts). Eager (almost desperate) to find out more, Ven cut through the still waters of the place humans referred to as Nuova Venezia.

* * *

Nuova Venezia, Ven realizes, is quite boring. Somehow, he expected more from it - busy waterways with gondolas gracefully swerving past each other, lively people talking to each other and going about their day, passion and energy that rivalled the morning sun - this was, unfortunately, not the case.

Nuova Venezia was somehow colder and quieter than its cold and quiet underwater counterpart. Despite the occasional passerby, Nuova Venezia was almost akin to a dead city. After further exploration, Ven had found its residential areas, which were only slightly more populated than its outskirts. Yet, the people seemed uncontent - none of them wore smiles on their faces. It was a sad, sad place that made Ven sad too.

Yet, Ven could not seem to look away, did not feel an urge to leave that barren wasteland.

Venezia, whether new or old, whether he liked it or not, was his birthplace. He was going to stay there and made sure everything would turn out okay, no matter what.

* * *

Ven dreams of a Venezia without water and a million times livelier. He dreams that he is part of Venezia too.

* * *

Ven sees a sylph one day. The sylph feels familiar, somehow.

“Who are you?”

The sylph, caught off guard by the sudden (and magic-laced) call, almost trips over himself turning around.  _ Strange _ , Ven thinks,  _ do sylphs even trip? _

The shock of white hair upon his head, common among sylphs, was to be expected, but his piercing crimson eyes were not. Ven swears he’s seen this combination of colours, in this exact hue, somewhere in his dreams.

In the time it takes for Ven to reright out of his quickly derailing train of thought, the sylph regains his composure, lands close to him, and replies with a smirk, as if nothing had happened. “I’m a sylph, of course. Strange you had to ask. Did my awesomeness catch your attention?”

Ven blinks confusedly. “No, not that,” he clarifies, “I meant your name. What’s your name? I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before…”

The sylph smirks again, although this time it seems more forced. “Aww, little siren you’re interested in me? I’m honoured, but usually, it’s more polite to give your own name before you ask others for theirs, much less start flirting with them.”

“I’m Ven,” the siren blurts out quickly, eager to hear an answer. “What’s your name?”

The combined force of the magic in Ven's voice and the sylph running out of ways to evade the question had him sighing in resignation. “I… don’t have a name. Never needed one.”

“Well, you could always give yourself a name,” Ven suggests. How could anyone not have - not need - not want a name? That was one of the first things he did after he came into existence, after all.

“True, but, well…” the sylph hesitates. “I have some ideas for a name, but they’re not nearly awesome enough for someone as awesome as me. Give me some time, and I’ll find myself a name awesome enough to be mine. Of course, little siren, you’ll be the first to know - you did suggest getting a name in first place. How does that sound to you?” He finishes the sentence, a genuine smile creeping onto his face. 

“My name is Ven,” reminds the siren in question with a similarly genuine, but gentler smile on his face. “But yeah, I’d like that.”

It’s the most life Ven has seen since coming into existence.

* * *

The elder sirenes teach Ven how to harness the magic in his voice. Mixolydia tells him that he has less magic than a usual siren, even when taking into account his young age, but that’s okay, because they’ll develop as he grows, and there’s no need for them anyway in peaceful waters like New Atlantis.

The sirenes take him to an outcrop of rocks and ask him to sing a song - any song that comes to mind. Ven briefly contemplates singing a small ditty about the Earth, but decides against it -  _ this is my first use of magic, might as well start it off with finesse, maybe it would help with my lacking magical capabilities _ \- and sang a verse of land and sea, of love and loss.

As if in response to his song, the once calm starts to move gently and form waves. “Good job,” Doria complements. “Not bad for a first-time.” Now, watch carefully, and see or hear - no,  _ feel _ \- what you find different between our singing.”

Had Ven been human, the sheer magic in Doria’s singing would have left him ruined after the piece ended. Of course, as a siren himself, he could appreciate the beauty and technique in her singing without mental damage - her skills in both magic and singing were far above his, and he had much to learn.

It was a shame Ven had to cut her singing short when he spotted an ominous tower of black cumulonimbus clouds gather and crackle threateningly above Nuova Venezia.

Aeolia pushes down a laugh as Doria’s face reddens rapidly next to her, andhe states that this can also serve as a reminder of the importance of knowing when to stop. Lydia quickly trills a few notes, forcing the thunderous tower of clouds to dissipate in mere moments. Ven is just glad that what little life there is in the human city didn’t get obliterated by the lightning.

Two minutes pass, and Locria, the bastard that he is, is still quietly chortling to himself at Doria’s expense.

* * *

A few days pass, and something completely unexpected happens in Nuova Venezia. 

Nuova Venezia, normally dull and silent, has suddenly become much more lively - there are far more people on the streets than he recalls ever seeing. Strangely, these new people all seem foreign (yet familiar), and are wearing mostly black. 

Interested by this new turn of events, Ven props himself up on shore and watches as much as he can from his spot in the water. 

Oh, is that bearded guy okay? That looked like a pretty nasty kick- damn those are some thick eyebrows, is he cursed? Ooh, that guy is taaaaaall. ...why is he holding a pipe of all things? Hold on, is that a polar bear kit? How did that even get here?! Why are there so few women? This is sad… And whoa, there sure are a lot of people with weird hairstyles - what's with that guy with those curls on his head? And aren't there like, at least two guys with spiky hair already? Is that a new fashion thing? ...whoa, nice eyes...

Wait, hold on, is that pineapple hair man looking straight at him?! And didn't Phrygia say to avoid them?

Ven slams himself back into the water so hard he nearly gives himself a concussion.

* * *

The "pineapple hair man" in question was indeed staring out at the patch of sea he thought he saw a mermaid in. 

"Hey, Norge, did you see that?" He asks as he turned to his companion.

"Norge" scoffs. "See what, Den? Learn to be more articulate before you ask questions."

"The mermaid, duh! She was right ther-" He points to the sea energetically, but pauses when he sees that the "mermaid" is no longer there. "Hey, she was right there like two seconds ago! Where'd she go?!"

"...have you been reading too much Andersen again, you idiot?"

"Yeah I have, but that's not the problem! I swear I saw a mermaid right," he flourishes at the water dramatically, "there!"

"Shut up bror, you're being more annoying than usual," comes the reply from the cold man. 

"There's no need to be so mean to Ta, Norja," interrupts a shorter man with violet eyes. "But you do have a point - we're going to be late if we don't hurry it up."

"Ta" readies to fire back a retort, but flinches and swallows it back as he senses a deadly aura (and a mutter that sounded suspiciously like "quit fl'rtin', y'two") coming from the tall and highly intimidating fourth member of the group. "Yeah, let's move it. Romano's gonna blow up on us if we're late," he concedes, dragging "Norge" and his younger brother forward in order to avoid the tall blonde's wrath. 

The group of five (plus a bird) moves on through the streets of Nuovo Venezia as if nothing had just happened. 

Internally, however, over half of the group was panicking. 

_ Lort _ , Denmark thinks,  _ Sverige's going to kill me in my sleep for sure. How do I get Fin to convince Sve to not kill me? _

Of course, he had already forgotten about the mermaid by this point, thanks to his incredibly short attention span and what he mistook as a death threat from "Sve". Norway, however, was unaware of this. 

_ Pokker _ , Norway worries,  _ Den doesn't have any magical capabilities. How in Valhalla did he see that siren? Well, he did mislabel him as a mermaid, but that doesn't change the fact that he saw the siren! But last I checked he wasn't magical at all… Is he still childish enough to believe in them?! I can't let him know they're real, Asgard knows he'll blab about it to ten different people within the span of two minutes… _

_Perkele_ , Finland frets, _did I mess up? I probably shouldn't have interfered, but Norja seemed harsher than usual… Oh, no, what if he actually hates Ta? Or what if he hates_ me _for butting in?!_ _Oh, dear… I hope things will turn out okay between those two..._

He had no idea Norway was worked up because of the siren and not Demark himself, and thank whatever higher power he didn't, but it did cost Finland a little extra emotional baggage. Sweden, as if sensing his "wife"'s plight, leans closer in towards Finland in order to provide comfort as a dutiful husband should…

...And ends up making Finland panic even more. What a brilliant husband-wife dynamic. Sweden, worrying that his beloved wife didn't love him anymore, begins to panic as well. 

Iceland, on the other hand, is off in his own little world, angsting quietly.  _...Do I tell Nore I saw the mermaid too? But he might make fun of me for that… Plus, judging by Dan and Nore's reactions, it was probably related to magical things… Oh, helvítis nei, no, nope, no way in hell was he telling _ anyone.  _ No way am I sacrificing my reputation for something trivial like this.  _

By this point, the only two not in some form of emotional distress are the bird (IT'S PUFFIN TO YA, PUNK!) on Iceland's shoulder and the fluffy white dog in “Sve”’s arms. Said bird is letting loose a constant stream of profanity, which, naturally, did nothing to improve any of the others' mental states. 

The Estonian who pops out of a side alley not even two minutes later demanding to join the Nordics is not helping matters.

* * *

The sylph comes by in the afternoon, right as the sky begins to pale from blue to yellow. 

"Hey! Little sir-uh, Ven! Guess what?" The red-eyed sylph, brimming with excitement, doesn’t even wait for the siren to respond before answering his own question. "I found myself a name!"

"That's great!" Ven claps appreciatively. "What's your name, then?"

"It's Jacob now! Jacob, after Jacob Grimm."

"Grimm? That aounds kinda morbid, to be honest…"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I suppose it is a little morbid. But don't be fooled, that guy actually compiled a bunch of fairy tales with his brother, and the results were awesome!" the newly-dubbed Jacob cheered. 

That piques Ven's curiosity. "You mean you've read them before?"

"Hell yeah! ...well, I haven't read them all yet, but from what I've seen, it's great stuff, hence why I took one of the author's names."

"Sounds fantastic! I wanna read them too!" Ven pauses for a moment, then visibly sags. "I don't think I can read, though…" Raising his slightly webbed and very wet hand, he continues, "I'd end up ruining the book for sure."

"Don't worry - I can bring the book and read it to you. I haven't read all of it, after all." Jacob ponders a bit, and follows up with "Besides, I'm not sure if you can read German."

"German?"

"Yeah, that's the language the book I found was written in. You thought there was only one language?" Jacob questions. 

Ven suddenly felt a little bit stupid. "Well, Phrygia told me that all mythical creatures share an instinctive common language…"

Jacob guffaws a bit, and explains to Ven the concept of human languages. Ven doesn't understand why humans can't just settle on one language and use that, but he thinks that it's just another endearing human trait. 

The sun is setting, and Ven remembers to ask Jacob an important question. "Hey, Jacob," he begins. 

"What is it?" comes the sylph's reply. 

"There was a huge bunch of people here today, and they were all in black. Is this some kind of weird festival or something?"

"People in black?" Jacob pauses a minute, then comes to a realization. "Oh, you mean the people attending the funeral."

"A funeral? What's that?" Ven questions innocently. 

"You don't know what a funeral is? That's pretty weird, coming from someone as into humans as you are. How old are you anyway?" Jacob inquires incredulously. 

"Uh… a moon? Maybe two?"

"Scheiße, no wonder." Jacob grimaces and proceeds to explain funerals. Death is a foreign concept to an immortal newborn like him, but Ven understands the "friends and family gathering to pay respects" part well enough. He remembers the insane amount and variety of people who showed up in Nuova Venezia, and comes to a conclusion. 

"Whoever the funeral is for, they must have led a pretty lucky life…" he murmurs. 

Jacob nods understandingly. "To have so many people care for them, even after their death, is truly fortunate."

The two part soon after, just as the moon becomes visible, but not before spending a moment of silence together for the fallen.

* * *

Under normal circumstances, the people of Nuova Venezia do not come out much at night. Under normal circumstances, no local would ride a gondola because those are actually slow tourist traps (and not a lot of people know how to operate them anyway. Why ride a gondola when you could ride a much faster motorboat or water motorcycle?). 

Ven has not observed enough to know all this yet, but he does recognize that "two people on a gondola in the middle of the sea at night" is by no means a normal occurrence. Ven is tempted to watch them from up close - it's not like anyone can see him anyway - but then he remembers the  _ incident _ earlier in the day, and rethinks his decision. 

He decides to stalk them from underwater, before realizing that he cannot hear or see the two from underneath the boat. Taking a chance, he approaches the boat slowly, careful to keep his tail under the water’s surface. The two on the gondola give no reaction. Even though that was good news for Ven's new reconnaissance mission, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment in his heart.

Closer to the gondola now, Vene can clearly see and hear the two men, one standing and rowing, the other sitting, talking to each other, albeit in a language he couldn’t grasp quite well. Even so, he found himself able to follow the flow of the conversation. The man on Ven's right is speaking, and so Ven directs his attention to him.

This man is intimidating, to say the least. With a tall and muscular build - ooh, muscly arms, explains why he’s rowing the gondola with ease - and a stern expression that looked as if it had been there since his birth, Ven decides that this is not a man he would want to cross. His harsh accent and hard intonation only served to cement this point, making it almost sound as if he was scolding his fellow passenger. Yet, Ven could not seem to shake off the feeling that this man was doing so unintentionally, and meant no harm despite his rough pronunciation. To Ven, they were almost gentle. In fact, if he had stopped to think about it, he would have noticed that this man was similar to Jacob - both sound abrasive and look as if they pose a threat, yet Ven manages to feel kindness from them. Hell, even their facial features look similar.

What catches his eyes next are the man’s appearance, despite his vision being hindered by the darkness of the night. The blue of his irises seem more akin to the gray of dark clouds in the dim lighting, but were attractive nonetheless. Gray, a colour that would normally be described as cold or dull, became gentle and rich in his eyes. His slicked-back golden hair provides a pleasant contrast of colours both against the dark of the night and his own stormy eyes, and seemed to reflect the light of the stars. In three words, he is  _ hot _ . It didn’t help that Ven felt a sense of familiarity with this man, like they had met in a past life or a dream. As if this man wasn’t already similar enough to Jacob in both appearance and speech.

Another voice speaks up, and Ven is caught off guard by the deepness of the voice, seeing as it was coming from a petite, almost feminine, man. ( _ No, his voice wasn’t what surprised you. The fact that he cut in at all was _ , whispers a corner of Ven’s consciousness, so quietly that he will never hear.) His short stature was accentuated by the presence of his standing companion, who was, by Ven’s estimation, at least a head taller than he. His voice was much smoother and gentle compared to the other’s, yet it was still surprisingly strong, strong enough to draw attention if needed. Even though he was using (what was presumably) the same language as the blond man, his words were somehow less sharp, creating dissonance between his words and his voice.

The smaller man had hair and eyes dark enough to melt into the night, but the stars above cast light upon him in a way that made him appear to have an angelic halo, standing out from the dark navy strands. His jet black eyes, coupled with the dim sky, made his eyes look like twin mirrors of the galaxy - deep, calm and mysterious. Ven gets the feeling that the phrase “the eyes are the window to the soul” is especially accurate here, wonders why this man inspires a sense of deja vu in him as well.

In fact, the two men were almost the exact opposite of each other, whether it be in appearance, language or demeanour. Ven wonders how on Earth these two ever got together, and has a sneaking suspicion that it involved a mysterious third person, radically different when compared to the two individually, yet similar enough when combined together, enough to bridge their differences. What living person would have the right traits to do something that seemed so impossible? Ven has no idea, and ignores his inner voice that says,  _ someone kind, someone amiable, someone just like you _ .

No, no, now is not a good time to get distracted. Ven snaps his attention back to the matter at hand - why are these two on a gondola at night anyway?

* * *

“So, Doitsu-san, will you finally explain your motives behind taking me out to sea this late at night?” Japan queries in German. “Jet lag may not be a problem for you, as you two live-” the Asian nation stutters and corrects himself as his boatmate winces. “Lived so close to each other, but I do not know if I can stay awake for much longer.”   
  


“Entschuldigung, Japan,” responds the German, “but I promise it will not take much longer. In fact, we have already arrived at our destination.” 

“Our...destination? We are in the middle of the sea, are we not? Osoreirimasu, I am afraid I do not understand what you mean.” Japan utters in confusion.

“Yes, our destination,” the Germanic nation affirms. “This is- used to be one of Italien’s favourite places to go to at night, strange as it is. He dragged me out here once for a night dat- uh, picnic - on a gondola, too.”

In an attempt to remain respectful, Japan stifles a yawn. “Really? Why so?”

Germany’s expression softens in remembrance and nostalgia, not enough to be called a smile, but a close approximation of one nonetheless. “Look around.”

Japan’s too tired to bother with any politely-phrased retort, so he turns his head to the sea and sees-

* * *

Ven sees the two men turn their heads and look at - no, through him. It’s just an endless expanse of sea, what’s there to gawk at? He turns around anyway, because knowing those two, they have to have some reason for doing so (he doesn’t know those two, what is he even  _ thinking _ )-

-and is greeted with the grandest sight he has ever seen in his entire (albeit short) life.

Tonight, there is no moon in sight to outshine the rest of the heavens. Stars surround him at every angle. For the upper hemisphere, it’s no surprise even if he’s never been above water much at night- Nuova Venezia is quiet enough that there’s little civilization, which means less artificial light to block out the stars’ shine. The milky way is visible, as is Venus, setting slowly in between some other stars. Is that Mars rising from the horizon? Ven can’t quite tell.

He was not expecting the stars to be around and beneath him as well.

How did he not notice before?

The water all around him mirrors the sky, creating an illusion of an endless expanse of stars, with no shore or rock close by to disrupt the fragile mirage. The Milky Way dives underneath the surface of the sea and resurfaces, forming a line - no, a ring - of smoke-like stars and nebulae that wraps around the trio. Small, near-unnoticeable ripples cause the stars’ reflections to briefly flicker away from view, then reappear, like any other star in the sky.

From Ven’s vantage point, it looks as if the gondola and himself are cruising through the depths of space. It’s almost romantic, in a strange way.

It’s an otherworldly, miraculous beauty Ven definitely would not mind being able to see for the rest of his life.

It’s just like the cosmic sea Ven sees in his sleep, but somehow even more vivid and lifelike.

* * *

The water around the two ripples lightly, sending starlight reflecting upon itself as a clement breeze envelopes the duo tenderly. It’s enough to make both Germany and Japan feel as if the spirits of their friends are still with them.

The core members of the Axis slip into an easy, comfortable silence, just like usual, even though two of them are not aware of the presence of the third. It’s like Italy Veneziano had never died, like their century-old bond had never been forcibly torn apart in first place.

* * *

The siren known as Ven dreams of sky-blue winds, ebony seas and ivory stars glowing crimson.

* * *

Ionia asks Ven for company a few days later, requiring his assistance with scavenging for a mirror.

“Don’t you already have like, at least five mirrors?” inquires Ven. “What would you do with, no, why would you even need six of them?”

“It never hurts to have a little more, darling~” answers the vain siren, before leaning closer to Ven, as if to tell him a secret. “Besides, this isn’t for me - this is a present for Locria.”

“For Locria?” sounding both incredulous and confused, Ven proceeded to question her. “But doesn’t he hate mirrors or accessories or anything like that?”

Ionia lets out a small chuckle. “Fufufu~ you’re mistaken, my dear. He simply pretends to not care for such things in order to keep up appearances. In reality, he does appreciate a good makeover, simply in private. I do wish we would be more secure about himself, though…” she trails off, then refocuses on Ven. “Now, let’s go find that mirror, shall we?”

Ionia tries to lead Ven into the streets of Venezia, before realizing that the young siren is already tens of tail-lengths ahead of her. It takes the elder of the two a good two minutes to catch up to him at full speed.

* * *

Ven takes Ionia into a mirror shop (or what once used to be a mirror shop, anyway) in Venezia along the quickest possible route, and once inside, Ionia is absolutely awed/thrilled/bewildered/all of the above at the sight of the multitude of mirrors the abandoned shop has to offer.

_ I don’t believe it - this is amazing! Dearie, how did you even find this place?! We’ve been here for at least a dozen moons and we’ve never come across it, but you’ve been alive for so little yet you managed to locate this place easily! _ Iona’s tone borders on manic.  _ Pray tell, how in Atlantis did you find this trove?! _

Ven, at a loss for words and not expecting the pink-haired siren’s outburst at all, weakly projects out an  _ uuhhh… I read the sign of the shop…? _

_ What sign? _ Ionia questions, still in her manic daze.  _ There are no signs here - the only text in this are of the ocean has to be written by either myself or the other sirenes, and the inhabitants of these ruins definitely didn’t use Atlantean before they fell down here. _ Ionia ponders some more, and reaches a revelation that snaps her out of her near-crazed state.

_ Ven? _ the elder siren starts hesitantly.

_ Yes, Ionia? _

_ You can read human, can’t you? _ Her tone, while not accusatory, is still bewildered enough to make Ven feel rather awkward.

Ven affirms her suspicions, and opens his mouth to try to explain it away ( _ you’re underwater, why would you even need to do that? _ ) as Ionia swats a hand uncomfortably close to his face and forces him to close it again.  _ It’s alright, dear, no need for explanations or excuses. _ She looks directly into his eyes and holds his hands, as if the fact that he could read Human ( _ no, just Italian _ , his subconscious protests) was a ground-breaking, sea-parting, stunning, revolutionary and miraculous feat. _ Before I continue, one more question, okay dearie? _

Ven doesn’t know Ionia quite well, but he knows that with how easily excitable (or even manic) the vain siren could be, composing an eloquent answer was futile because she would come up with one, answer it for her target, then continue on with whatever she was about to say. In light of this, he simply nods instead. The word vomit from Ionia comes out even before he’s done with his nod.  _ You can understand human speech as well, yes? _

Ven nods in response again. From the brief look of confusion on Ionia’s face, Ven can tell for sure that Ionia has no idea whatsoever about why he can understand humans, but that thought is quickly smothered by a hug from the siren in question. Her excitement, if converted to text, would probably be the equivalent of maybe twenty or fifty exclamation marks.

_ That’s wonderful! _ Comes Ionia’s excited trill.  _ You’ll have no trouble finding your way around New Atlantis, or even above water, then - In fact, I think we might need a teeny bit of your expertise for scavenging, too! That doesn’t mean we won’t help you out anymore, though.  _ Ionia pauses for a brief moment to smile at Ven.  _ You’re still our dear little boy, so don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need from us, alright? _

Ven, bewildered by both Ionia’s fast pace and easy acceptance of the situation, can only nod affirmatively a few more times.

* * *

A little later, Doria proposes a scavenger hunt. Ven finds so much stuff he has to make at least five trips back to the starting point just to put them down in order to free his arms to hold more. Ven also wins by a landslide against everyone else combined (nobody bothered to count once they saw the small hill of glittering precious gemstones and metals), and Locria hastily suggests that he put the crazy amount of treasure back into the ruined city because “Kid, I think you might have robbed all of New Atlantis dry within less than an hour.”

With his newfound knowledge of Venezia, Ven speeds through the city and returns the treasures he took within an hour.

On the way, he muses that he might actually know Venezia better than the back of his hand - and realizes that it’s not a hyperbole when he actually pauses to look at his webbed hand.

* * *

Ven has taken to people watching again, because there’s not much to do underwater. Sure, the other sirenes occasionally drag him on scavenging trips (as their guide) or races (one against seven with a fifteen-minute head-start handicap), but it’s no fun since he already knows where everything is and knows with certainty that he’ll win the races no matter what. The thrill of the race and the excitement of the hunt just… isn’t there. There’s only so much he can talk to the other seven sirenes about, and there are little to no fish (or anything else at all) in all of New Atlantis. So, Ven decides that he’ll do something more interesting, at least until Jacob decides to return with his “Grimm Fairy Tales” to keep him entertained.

That was how he ended up in Nuova Venezia, swimming through one of the narrower riverways. Sure, it was hard to find people to watch, what with Nuova Venezia being so underpopulated, but once he got past that stage, things actually got fun. He could look at the people and guess at things, like why some wear fancier clothes, or simply appreciate the beauty and variety life has to offer.

Today was not a day for Ven to simply sit back and watch, though. Today was a day that would, against his better intentions, force him to actively investigate a human.

It starts with a man who looks eerily similar to Ven.

* * *

Ven is initially so shocked by the man he dives back underwater then back up again in an attempt to dispel the illusion. When he comes back up, the strange man hasn’t disappeared yet, and so Ven concludes that yes, he is not hallucinating, there really is a human who looks near-identical to him.

Whereas Ven had hair the colour of bronze and eyes two shades away from gold, this man had darker hair that almost resembled the shade of earth and viridian eyes that seemed to contain boundless sorrow. The most obvious difference between the human and the siren, though (barring the fact that one had legs and the other had a tail), was the aura of negativity that surrounded the human.

The people of Nuova Venezia were quiet and the city was dreary, sure, but he had never seen anyone outright depressed like this.

_ Why? _ Questions Ven to himself.  _ Why is he so sad - no, what in the world would make someone so sad? _

He decides that he absolutely has to find out - and if he can, on the way, find out why he has a doppelganger, that would be nice, too.

* * *

Ven follows his mirror image around for a while. Mr. Doppelgänger turns out to be more boring than Ven expects, and nothing out of the ordinary really happens. His lookalike talks to the townspeople, sometimes buys some flowers and food, and walks along the pavement and disappears to somewhere inland without any riverways for Ven to follow him in. Even when he talks to others, he prefers to stay quiet and let the other party talk. Somehow, that doesn’t sit well with Ven. He felt like his doppelgänger was acting horribly out of character, despite not knowing the man at all.

Ven knows he has no reason to care about random coincidences like these, but some feeling of kinship with his human counterpart made him want to stay, despite, or maybe even because of his immense sadness.

He watches. He wishes he could do more, but he can’t. So he watches instead.

* * *

Ven dreams of the missing half of his soul, strong, but broken and in tatters. It makes Ven sad too.

* * *

Ven gets bored of just watching his double, so when Ionia and Phrygia ask him for help with scavenging for colourful cloths, he doesn’t refuse. 

After leading the duo to what was once a textiles shop, Ven prepares to leave and find something else to distract himself with. He pauses when a few ribbons on the counter catch his eye. He decides to take them with him - his hair is getting long and he wants something to tie them up with, since he’s not used to hair in his face at all. The fact that the colour combination of green-white-red is also interesting helps.

* * *

_ “Agh, this is stupid… um…” _

_ “Fratello, what’s wrong?” _

_ “Ugh, um…I just, I...” _

_ “You can say anything you want, fratello, I promise I won’t laugh, okay?” _

_ “I, um… thank you, dammit!” _

_ “Eh?!” _

_ “Even if I didn’t really ask for it, I’m still glad we got to unify Italy, so… thanks for your help in this whole fiasco, I guess… But from now on, we’re on our own, united under il Tricolore, as one nation, so… I’ll be relying on you from now on, dammit! ...now forget about what I just said, it was cheesy as fuck! Did you even hear me?!” _

_ “...ehehe, uh… yeah, I heard you-” _

_ “Chigiiiiiiii!!! I told you to forget about it!” _

_ “Waaah! Mi dispiace, fratello- aaah, don’t glare at me like that, please!” _

* * *

Abruptly, an anguished scream comes from above the surface.

Ven breaks the water just in time to narrowly avoid a projectile hurtling above his face.  _...What? _

On the shore, a furious Mr. Doppelgänger is screeching at the setting sun for no visible reason.  _...What?! _

Over the days of stalking his carbon copy, Ven pegged him as a relatively calm and methodical person. In his infrequent chats with the people, he always seemed so composed and amicable…

_ Yet, here we are, _ contradicts his thoughts,  _ watching him throw a tantrum at the sea of all things.  _ Some inane part of him wonders what the sea did to piss him off so badly. 

The angry cries resume, and Ven’s enhanced siren hearing is not happy with that development in the very least. The young siren promptly ducks underwater to cancel out the worst of the auditory blow, before resurfacing a good distance away - far away enough to avoid both any other flying rocks and the brunt of his double’s furious wailing, but close enough to hear the contents of his rant.

“Che palle! Who the fuck told you you could die, huh bastardo?!” Ven winces at the unnecessarily cruel language coming from his doppelgänger. Their voices were eerily similar, and Ven cringes at how sharp and venomous his voice could be. “You shitheaded stronzo, you left me alone to run this entire fucking country! Venezia is the deadest I’ve ever seen it - ‘Nuova Venezia’, my ass! Try ‘Not Goddamn Venezia Anymore’! You expect me to run this properly?! Look at what it’s turned to! Who let you just drop this responsibility on me?!” 

Mr. Copycat barely pauses to take a single shallow, shaky breath, before he resumes his angered tirade at the ocean. Tirade is an overstatement, actually - it’s just an unbelievably long barrage of cursing that Ven wishes he  _ couldn’t _ understand, for once. Was it necessary to cuss out not only someone’s mother, but also their great-great-great-great-great-grandmother and everyone else in between? Flinching, Ven returns underwater.

The muffled cursing comes to a halt entirely, and a rock splashes through the water, a fair distance in front of him. His counterpart is louder than ever, and even underwater Ven can hear him loud and clear.

“Figlio di puttana!”

Splash.

“Mangia merde!”

Another rock sinks to the depths of New Atlantis.

“A fanabla!”

Another splash. Louder this time.

“Coglione!”

A plop this time. The “rock” hits the water before disintegrating into sand. Did the other man run out of stones to throw?

“Vaffanculo!”

Despite the steady crescendoing severity of the insults, the other’s voice diminishes in both volume and harshness disproportionately. There’s also less force behind his throws now, too.

“Testa di cazzo!”

One more plop, softer than the last. The phrase sounds stilted, like the speaker is trying to choke back a tear, a cough or a crack in his voice. 

“Affanculo!”

No sinking stones or sand accompany the softer, almost unintelligible insult. The almost desperate stream of profanity slows to a stop, and Ven deems it safe to resurface. He comes back up just in time to see the once hostile and enraged man collapse on his knees, with silent sobs wracking his entire body.

“Why…?”

* * *

The nation once known as South Italy cries at the outskirts of what used to be his brother's heart.

* * *

Jacob comes by two days later, announcing triumphantly that he has finally managed to sneak the book of fairy tales out of its resting place and they can finally start reading the book.

Ven listens, but he’s not very invested in the plot of the book as a whole. He’s still distracted by his lookalike’s explosive outburst, and his unusual (read: worse than usual) ditziness doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey, Ven, you’re really out of it today. Wanna talk about it?” Jacob is uncharacteristically serious about this, and it’s in times like this that Ven remembers that the sylph is much more observant and intelligent than he pretends to be. It’s not an unwelcome trait, but it is just a tad bit unsettling.

Ven ends up giving him a brief and minimal explanation of the incident, and Jacob backs away from it understandingly. In an unnecessary attempt to divulge his attention, Ven offers to fetch him a bag from Venezia to hold Grimm’s tales and whatever else he fancies inside, and Jacob gratefully accepts the offer. Not even five minutes later, Ven returns with a high-quality messenger bag that’s slightly waterlogged. Jacob is flabbergasted at the siren’s speed, and accuses him of having prepared it in advance. Ven denies the claim truthfully, and dismisses it wholly by stating that he is simply fast and knows Venezia well enough to navigate the place with no trouble.

They put the bag on a patch of rock to dry. The rest of the day is spent on idle chatter and comfortable silence, and the fairy tales are left for a late date, for when Ven actually regains enough of his wits to pay attention to them. With Jacob’s powers over the wind and the shining sun above, the bag is sufficiently dried out by the time the flighty sylph leaves.

* * *

Night falls, but Ven stays out on the surface again because he knows that today will be a moonless night, meaning that he can watch the cosmic sea once again. 

As the last of the sun falls below the horizon, bathing the water a rosy red, Ven watches as the red fades to a violet, then to dark blue, and finally a dark shade virtually indistinguishable from black. As the sky darkens, the stars begin to flicker and shine. Ven swims a little further out to sea after realizing that he’s still a little too close to the city lights of Nuova Venezia, and settles down for the show of a lifetime.

Something (two people and a gondola, to be specific) are missing from the picture this time, but Ven settles for the small (but significant) difference.

* * *

Ven spots his short-tempered double at the beach again. This time he’s not launching rocks into the water or yelling profanity, nor is he outright breaking down. He’s just… moping. Sitting on the half-rock half-sand floor and staring at nothing. It’s kind of unnerving, actually.

Ven moves closer, and it’s not until then that he sees the tear tracks on his face. He wants to do something about them, but he can’t, not when the human cannot see him despite them being so close to each other. Not when Ven isn’t believed in, not when he can’t even touch the person he’s trying to comfort.

So Ven leaves the other man to his own devices and runs away from that fact that any effort he makes will be futile and fruitless. In his haste to leave (escape guilt), he misses the fact that his makeshift hair tie has come loose, and the tri-coloured ribbon allows itself to be washed towards the shore by the waves.

* * *

Separated by the waves, Italia Romano spots a ribbon in the colours of his country, and sees some semblance of peace for the first time in years.

The smile on his face is pained, wistful and melancholic, but it’s a genuine one nonetheless.

* * *

The singing lessons continue. Ionia and Lydia criticize Aeolia and Locria for being too strict, who criticize them back in turn for being too soft. It’s almost funny to watch, but Ven accidentally lets slip a laugh and Locria is ridiculously hard on him for the rest of the day, making unreasonable and unrealistic demands on the way. Even with the practise sessions, his magic isn’t very potent yet. Ionia reassures him that it’s natural, and a few days of practise won’t change much yet. Ven believes her, but he’s starting to doubt himself.

* * *

The next time Ven sees his duplicate, a mysterious ribbon, identical to the one on Ven’s hair, has wound its way onto his wrist. His despairful aura has also dissipated by a significant bit, and Ven is infinitely relieved by the small fact. How does he know how his doppelgänger is feeling? ...Well, it’s just a gut feeling, really, but his instincts have led him all around Venezia without fault - why should he start doubting them here?

* * *

Jacob glides down from the skies less gracefully and more agitated than usual. Ven, naturally, notices, and fusses over the siren because this is the first time he’s seen the other like this. As the sylph descends, he lets out a constant stream of expletives that Ven (thankfully) cannot understand. Ven idly notes that he’s been hearing quite a number of those lately.

“What happened?” the sea-dweller asks.

“An insane Arschfotze, that’s what!” Before Ven can even ask what an “Arschfotze” is, Jacob is already on a roll. “Seriously, what Dummkopf is so up their own ass they somehow mistake a sylph for a winter sprite of all things?! Besides, you’d think that wallaby-kangaroo-hare thing would have a little more common sense - it’s almost summer, for fuck’s sake!” 

The thing about sylphs was that they didn’t need to pause mid-speech to catch their breaths. That was the reason why Jacob, clearly incensed, had already launched himself into another segment of his rant. “Plus, you’d expect to see wolpertingers or nachtkrapps in the Black Forest, not kangaroos the size of a buff adult male with scheißeierhandgranates! Verflucht, just go back to Australia already!”

_ In the common language, please? _ “Um, what?”

Jacob finally seems to notice Ven’s existence, and proceeds to give a calmer recount of events. “I was wandering around in the Black Forest - that’s in Germany, by the way - and some Arschloch decided to ambush me with boomerangs and egg grenades because he thought I was some winter sprite arch-nemesis of his.” The free spirit barks out a harsh laugh. “A winter sprite, of all things! Even the foundation of our existences are completely different, yet the oversized wallaby somehow mistakes wind for snow! Can you believe it?!”

Ven decides to focus on the strangest part of the bizarre statement first. “Scusa, egg… grenades?”

“I shit you not, Ven. I have no idea where that wichser got them from either. But basically, the wallaby assaulted me and wouldn’t fucking listen when I tried to tell him that he got the wrong spirit and accused me of ‘trying to ruin his season’ or something, so I had to hightail it outta there.” Jacob’s inflection in the last part of his speech almost makes Ven think that they sylph was not satisfied with having to retreat. So, Ven decides to bring attention to that fact.

“Huh. You didn’t, like, I dunno, blitzkrieg them or something? It feels like something you’d want to do.” 

_ Hold on. _ “What does blitzkrieg even mean?”

Jacob vocalizes Ven’s unspoken question for him. “How did you even know that phrase? I thought you said you didn’t know German.” He takes the helpless shrug from Ven as his cue, and explains, “Blitzkrieg, literally, just means lightning-war. In that context, though, it probably means a strong and fast attack.” The sylph continues with a regretful expression. “Yeah, would’ve done that if I could. I don’t have a weapon to carry that out though, sadly.”

Ven blinks confusedly. “But… you’re a sylph. Can’t you attack or at least blow them back with wind?”

Jacob huffs irritatedly. “I’m what, a dozen season cycles older than you, Ven, I haven’t had the time to master sharp winds yet. My ‘subpar magical abilities’ don’t help, either.”

“Wait, you too?” rushes out of Ven’s mouth before his brain can process it.

“Psh, I’ve met the other sylphs fucking once and the one thing they tell me is th- wait, what?”

“We’re both… um, magically lacking?” Ven’s enthusiasm dims when he realizes he’s referring to something that is not necessarily a positive trait. Frantically attempting to turn the conversation around, Ven smoothly changes the topic. “Uh, so you need a weapon, right? I’m not sure if there’s anything that hasn’t rusted or rotten away under New Atlantis, but do you want me to check for you anyways? Oh, and do you have a weapon preference?”

This time, it’s Jacob’s turn to blink confusedly. “Um, what? Err, yeah, ok, sure-” Before he can finish his eloquent statement, Ven is already tens of metres under the sea.

Ten minutes later, Ven resurfaces with an assortment of weapons (read: metal sticks and knives) and a roll of monochrome ribbon. Jacob, still dumbfounded, picks out a pole that looks particularly sturdy and wieldy, and mutters about sharpening out the thing. Conveniently, the pole has a hook at the end, so fashioning a holster for the rod out of Jacob’s bag and the ribbon isn’t very hard. 

By the time they’re done, the setting sun is casting a layer of fire on the world, and Jacob departs so he can get back to Germany in time for rest. Ven reflects that this might just be the first time they’ve parted ways with tension between them.

* * *

The next lesson, Ven actually manages to lure the sun out from behind the clouds with his voice alone. It’s only for a brief few minutes, but it’s still progress. Ven can’t help but smile the rest of the day.

* * *

Ven spots his doppel on the beach again. He’s in a considerably better state of mind now, and from afar Ven can hear him diligently recite prayers to a god he doesn’t know. Ven listens anyway.

“Padre nostro che sei nei cieli, sia santificato il tuo nome; venga il tuo regno, sia fatta la tua volontà, come in cielo così in terra….”

* * *

Ven notes that there have been more sirenes and other water-dwellers moving into New Atlantis. He spots a few undine, a shoal of mer and even a selkie that he’s never seen before around these parts.

New Atlantis gets livelier by the day, mirroring the increasing warmth (both literally and metaphorically) of its counterpart above the sea.

It’s a welcome change from the cloud of depression that’s been above his head for so many days.

* * *

Ven, straying a little further away from New Atlantis than he should, hears muted sobbing from the shore. He almost immediately pinpoints his lookalike as the source, expecting to see a lone figure that he can never console.

He’s wrong. There’s someone else with him this time, someone taller with tanned skin and hair the colour of burnt sienna and eyes somehow even greener than Mr. Doppelgänger’s.

The man in question is holding Ven’s counterpart close and letting him cry into his shirt. Ven’s enhanced hearing lets him catch a few words in between the weeping - “No… why, he didn’t deserve… die so soon, not fair, not fair not fair…” while the taller man pets his head gently and whispers soothing nothings into his ear.

Despite the sorrowful mood of the scene, Ven can’t help but smile. His mirror image is finally being honest about his emotions, and there’s someone to take care of him in a way Ven never could, with words and touches and everything else Ven can never even dream of doing. Even if things aren’t good now, this is a positive development, and things will certainly settle themselves eventually.

Ven knows that he doesn’t need to worry about his twin anymore. Satisfied, Ven decides to give the two humans some privacy and returns to the streets of Venezia.

* * *

The new inhabitants of New Atlantis have taken to asking Ven for directions in Venezia, and he’s gathered quite a lot of attention bordering on fame recently. Frankly, it’s a little uncomfortable - he’s just trying to help his fellow inhabitants, after all.

A young mermaid asks him how he knows the twisting and winding streets of the ruinous city so well. Ven realizes he doesn’t have an answer to that.

* * *

This moonless night, there’s a gondola out on the sea to complete the image from a few months ago. Ven keeps his distance, approaching slowly and from the side to ensure that he won’t be seen by the gondola’s passengers.

To his dismay, the gondola only contains one man, but to his utter delight, it’s the blond haired man with the stormy eyes from when he was first introduced to the sight of the starry sea. Excited and comforted, Ven’s attitude flips by one hundred and eighty degrees and he rushes up to the gondola. It’s the same gondola as the last time, and Ven wonders if this gondola isn’t a rental.

As Ven closes in and turns to face the man on the gondola (no, he’s not being creepy, he’s just curious about the human race, no big deal or ulterior motive here, absolutely not), he begins to speak. 

“Wait, he can see me?!”

It takes a few seconds for Ven to realize that yes, he did voice his thoughts out loud, but as it turned out, it didn’t matter because the man didn’t respond to his voice. So he was talking to himself? Strange, but alright, he’s seen weirder from the other sirenes. It’s a pity he can’t quite understand the other’s rough language, but his inflection tells him enough - it’s a soliloquy, a message for another that will never be heard. 

He unties his hair and re-ties the ribbon around one of the gondola’s oars instead, as a little gift to the handsome man on it. Maybe this will make him a little happier, like his counterpart with a makeshift bracelet made from a ribbon identical to one of his own.

He listens more closely, and realizes that some of what he’s hearing sounds suspiciously like his doppelgänger’s angry rant. Of course, this monologue is nowhere as angrily heated as Mr. Copycat’s intense spiel, but it carries a tinge of repressed sorrow and regret to it as well. He also catches stray words like “Venezia”, “Nuova Venezia” and “Veneziano”. Judging by the similar vocabulary and tone of the two speeches, Ven comes to the conclusion that both men are mourning for the same person.

The multitude of people at the funeral, the passion in the diatribe, the intensity in this deliverance, the melancholy of the foreign dialogue, the clarity of the stream of tears…

Whoever this person was, they must have been truly, wholeheartedly, definitely loved.

Ven is almost envious.

* * *

An hour later, Germany spots a tricoloured ribbon tied to his best friend’s gondola. He’s absolutely sure that it hasn’t been there before, but its sudden presence is far from unwelcome.

Germany tucks the damp ribbon securely in his breast pocket, right next to his heart.

* * *

Ven goes back to normal people watching. Not watching his human counterpart anymore isn’t something he’s used to yet, but the person in question doesn’t need to be shadowed by him, and he doesn’t feel the necessity to stalk him, either. So Ven just watches, like he normally does. Being an observer is interesting, but oh so lonely.

This is the best he can ever have. It’s either this or back to the boring depths of New Atlantis. What choice is there, anyway?

* * *

Jacob arrives at Venezia, in a considerably better mood than last time and ready for another reading of Grimm’s Tales. In the middle of Musicians of Bremen, Jacob pauses for seemingly no reason and squints at the streets. “Scheiße.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Am I tripping, or is there really a dude with blond hair and blue eyes looking like he wants to cut someone over there?” Following Jacob’s finger, his line of vision does meet a human with hair a golden shade he has only seen twice.

“Hey, that’s the man I saw on the gondola! Doesn’t he look like you, Jacob?” Now that Ven actually has a reference to compare the sylph and the human side-by-side, he can confirm that yes, they do look quite alike. The crease above their brows only serve to further accentuate their similarities.

“Holy crap, that’s creepy. But that’s not what I meant.” The sylph pats the book of fairytales. “You know where this awesome book came from?”

“Um… you said you took it from someone’s bookshelf, right?”

“Yep. And that guy? He’s the owner of that bookshelf, and he's supposed to be in Germany, not Italy.”

“...Jacob, you stole his book?!”

Jacob has the decency to look at least a little sheepish. “Um… I’m just borrowing it temporarily… and he doesn’t know yet?”

“Thank the stars he can’t see us, you know. He’d probably scold you or something if he found out.”

For some reason, Jacob looks a little disappointed by Ven’s statement. “Seriously? He doesn’t look like the type to scold someone. He’d probably snap my nonexistent spine in half if he could. Or at least have me do all his chores or something for sweeping his documents off the desk. Besides, this thing was super dusty when I took it - from in the middle of a bunch of books on political economics, no less - he probably doesn’t even know it’s there.” Chores and political economics are a foreign concept to Ven, but he decides to not ask about them in favour of something else that catches his eye. Or rather, someone else.

Mr. Doppelgänger is approaching from the other end of the street.

Ven has the itching feeling that things will not turn out well.

* * *

“Potato bas- Germany." The words are snarled with diluted and unfounded ire.

“Romano.” A curt nod in response. 

What to say in a situation like this? “I’m sorry for your loss” sounds too impersonal, but just starting normal conversation without regard for anything else is somehow even colder. 

What to do? What to say?

“Why the hell are you in Venezia?”  _ Greeeeat. What a way to break the ice. Perfect. Absolutely  _ stunning _ performance of tact, idiota. _

“I wanted to visit him again. You?”  _ Hold on, scheiße, that was not the right thing to ask, he’s _ Italy _ , verdammt, he has full reason to be here- _

“...Same, actually. This city hasn’t been like it was before, so I was just checking up on it, I guess.” _ Col cavalo, I actually managed to be civil with the potato bastard! Are you proud of me now, Spain?! _

_...I don’t believe it. Romano of all people is being civil with me? I’m tempted to ask if he wants something from me.  _ “The city’s much better than it has been a few months ago. I can tell the people are more livelier.”  _ I’d congratulate him on a job well done, but something tells me I would regret it if I did. _

_ He didn’t spout bullshit on the EU, reconstruction and politics? That’s a new one.  _ “Heh, at least a potato bastard like you actually has some sensitivity and taste.” The only remaining representative of Italy steps off of the pavement to avoid inconveniencing his people, despite them avoiding the two nations almost as if by instinct. The Germanic nation follows. “So, how’s life?”

“Terrible.”

The cockiness in his voice returns. “Glad to hear it.”

* * *

Ven lets out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding. Next to him, Jacob does the same. The fact that the two men didn’t punch each others’ faces in or even argue was both alien and surprising, given the tension between the two mere moments ago, but relieving nonetheless. 

_ I don’t know either of them well at all. Why would I instinctively assume they would get into a fight? And why would Jacob have a reaction similar to mine? _

The two humans left soon after, leaving Ven and Jacob to their own thoughts.

“... I understood maybe three-fourths of that conversation, and it was as amusing as it was irritating. How did those two not collapse from social awkwardness?! I bet they’d faint from my sheer awesomeness if they ever talked to me.”

Ven nods in agreement. “Same here! Why would anyone respond with ‘good to hear it’ after getting a negative response as to how their life was going?! Right after giving them a compliment, no less!”

Jacob’s astonishment is apparent on his face. “Wait, what? That was what the brunette said?! I thought it was some unawesomely terrible joke! The dude I got my book from even said it was terrible!”

“Uh… no? He was referring to his life.” Ven states confusedly.

Jacob shakes his head. “Eugh… nevermind.”

Ven comes to a strange and nonsensical conclusion. “Don’t tell me… you’re as socially incapable as those two were!”

“I’m not!” The wind spirit denies vehemently. “I’m just… uh… That was because I don’t understand Italian!”

“Um… okay.”

“Hey! You don’t believe me, do you?!”

“Um, ye- no…? ...I think we might all be socially awkward, actually… Can we change the topic now?”

“We probably should.”

Silence reigned.

Ven supposed having little interaction with others, regardless of species, would make anyone socially awkward.  _...How to change the topic? _

“Uh, um…! Oh, yeah! Did you just say you blew the blond guy’s documents off his table?” Ven truly was a master of changing the subject.

“Oh, scheiße, you remembered that?!”

“You told me to change the subject, so…”

“... I may or may not have blown the buff dude’s documents off the table to distract him while I got away with the book. ...don’t look at me like that, he looked like he was overworking himself, I was just trying to… uh…make him less stressed…?”

Ven blinks, uncomprehending of Jacob’s troll logic. “Wouldn’t that make him more stressed instead?”

“...at least he has an excuse to not work?” Jacob’s argument ends up sounding more like a question.

“I don’t know much about human work, but… I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works.” Ven deadpans, in a manner unbecoming of his normal attitude.

“Stop making sense, Ven, you’re making me feel guilty.”

* * *

The younger merfolk and undines gather to watch Ven’s next singing lesson. Ven thinks it’s a little awkward, but the awed gasps and giggles when he calls for the sun are worth every bit of embarrassment and effort.

This time, he manages to hold the clouds away for five minutes, and calms the waves in another two. Phrygia states that sirenes of his age perform better than that on average, but for someone like him, it’s already a large step towards success.

* * *

Jacob complains about being mistaken for a winter sprite again, this time by a “dragonfly chameleon hummingbird woman”. The ensuing rant goes on for a good quarter hour, concluding with an “at least I didn’t get assaulted this time”.

Ven is still at a loss as to how others confuse Jacob with a spirit of winter despite it being the middle of summer.

* * *

Ven notices that New Atlantis is progressively getting even more populated with sea creatures and dwellers from various origins. He swears he saw a kappa pass by him a few days ago.

There is at least a whole clan of new merfolk and another family of undine. He also spots a stray nereid here and there.

As Ven points a selkie towards the nearest source of string, he realizes that New Atlantis is getting more lively by the day, and he appreciates it - but there’s a tinge of wrongness to it, like he’s used to seeing others down in these ruins, like the new inhabitants of the underwater city aren’t supposed to be here.

Ven shakes off the thought and proceeds with his day, but the uncomfortable feeling of divergence remains.

* * *

After a few more singing lessons, the elder sirenes announce that they’re leaving for Atlantis.

“But why?” Ven, distraught from the impending loss of his mentors, asks for the third time.

“We must,” replies Doria. “I’m so sorry for the sudden notice, but we got the news of our return so suddenly, too…”

Ionia pats Ven’s head reassuringly. “If we have to make it back to our newborn little cousin in time, then we must leave by tomorrow, the latest. You’ll be fine without us here with you, right dear?”

Mixolydia follows up with what was meant to be gentle encouragement. “Indeed. Besides, Locria will be staying, so if there’s anything you need, you can just ask him.” She pauses, and turns to the siren in question. “You don’t mind, do you?”

"...I'm not here to help. I’m just staying because I have no idea how to deal with newborn kids, especially newborn mer.” The confidence that Locria’s comment sparks is comparable to that of a fire lit underwater - none at all. His reluctant and deadpan expression does not help matters.

A few exchanges of words later, Ven hugs every single one of his seven mentors and offers them a tearful goodbye. Lydia chuckles lightly at the sight.

“We’re leaving tomorrow, not today. There’s no need to be so glum now!”

“Yes,” Phrygia supplies. “We’re just going to pack now, after all.”

“You’ll definitely see us in the future - in the end, all we have is time,” concludes Aeolia.

The next morning, Ven sees the six sirenes off with a smile and a memento - a brooch decorated with fine gemstones, finished off with his signature green-white-red ribbon.

“Come back to Venezia sometime, okay?”

The sirenes make a general noise of assent before they set off, racing the sun to the west.

* * *

Locria is less irritable after his kind-of-siblings have left. Without the “constant nuisances in his life” (or so Locria claims), no one is there to rile him up and make him explode.

That doesn’t mean Locria has stopped being a hardass (in Jacob’s words), though. He’s still strict as ever with Ven’s vocal lessons, and is simultaneously saltier and sourer than any food a siren can find under the sea, including the sea itself.

“What do you have against that mer child over in Atlantis anyway?” questions a very bored Ven one day.

“Because children are already annoying and mer are even more so,” Locria responds bitingly.

“What’s wrong with the merfolk?”

“They are absolute bullcrap! All of them!” explodes the bitter siren out of absolutely nowhere. “They think they can sing, but they just…” Locria struggles momentarily for a more descriptive, more accurate word, and fails. “...can’t! Even the best mer singers are worse than you when you were a newborn!” 

Ven makes a face of extreme confusion at this - should he take that as a compliment or an insult?

“The call themselves singers?! Ha! Absolute horseshit! Those flouncy fuckers can’t even carry a beat if it cost them their soulless lives! Pick a beat and for Atlantis’ sake, _ stick to it! _ And the tune?! It’s nonexistent! Nonexistent, you hear me?! I heard two damn bars and already wanted to puke from that excuse of a melody! Every other note was somehow sharper than the last while the other was flatter than the sea floor, and just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, they somehow managed to fucking change keys! Thrice! In a row! It’s borderline hysterical, I tell you!”

Ven couldn’t claim that the mer children's singing was on point, but he found the little voice cracks and missed beats endearing. Was this because of Locria’s excellence in his field, or was it purely because of personal bias?

“And if you thought the adult mers’ singing was shit, you better think again! The children get worse! Can’t even scream in tune, what the fuck is wrong with them?”

_ Uh… what? _

Locria continues to bitch about the merfolk's supposedly terrible singing. "If they're going to make stupid, off tune and meaningless noises right off the bat, I am-" The infuriated siren takes a deep breath and emphasizes his next words. " _ -not _ putting up with even a single one of them! As a siren, I cannot afford to damage my ears with their supersonic screeching and a surplus of untuned, offkey, grating noises..."

Ven, too polite (and scared) to interrupt, sits through the thirty minutes of pure ranting. Well, at least he's more experienced in listening to angry rants now. 

_ Is that even a good thing? _

* * *

Jacob comes back with a bird that’s almost as noisy as him. As the sylph speeds down onto the rocks, the yellow puffball in his palms makes an odd sound that’s halfway between a trill and a purr.

Jacob lands with a loud whoop, and enthusiastically shoves the small bundle of feathers in Ven’s face. Having never seen a bird up close before, the siren is naturally curious about it.

“Look, Ven! He’s a super awesome canary! Isn’t he just cool?”

“You’re right! He’s really cute! ...wait, is this string supposed to be here?” Ven gestures to a branch that’s tied to the canary’s wing.

“Uh… no. I think the little fella crashed into a tree or something way too hard and broke a bone, so I tied the string around his wing for him to make sure he doesn’t make it worse. I was actually going to ask if you sirenes have anything to help with or speed up the healing process, actually.”

Ven shakes his head sadly. “No, sorry. I don’t think anyone living in New Atlantis has that kind of ability. You’d be better off trying to look for phoenixes or caladriai, really.”

“Sorry, cala-what?!”

“Um, Phrygia said that they were white birds-” The canary rudely interrupts with a poorly timed squeak. “uh… white birds called caladriai that could heal sickness? I’m not sure if that will work for injuries, though, so finding a phoenix might be a better idea… I think Phrygia mentioned a colony of them way over to the northeast of here? Other sky dwellers like you would probably have a better idea on how to heal birds, though. Try asking if you find someone, I guess.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Maybe I can ask Dragonfly Woman if I run into her again.” The confusion in Jacob’s voice doesn’t fade. “How is it that you know more about creatures of the sky than I do?”

“I talk more with other people. Since I’m a lot younger, they’re fine with telling me random things. You should try it, too - just talking to me can’t be healthy.”

“Gah, you make it sound so easy… Besides, that’s not the only thing I’m here for. I wanted to ask for some help on naming this little guy here.” Jacob gently petted the canary as he spoke, eliciting a chain of soft warbling.

“He’s your bird, you should name him, Do you have any ideas?”

“Um… not really, let me think… Yellow is just stupid…” the sylph cast a quick glance at Ven. “...gill...bird… Gilbert? Ah ha! Why don’t we name him Gilbird?”

Ven could not bring himself to look directly at Jacob’s triumphant face. 

“Is it really that bad of a pun…?”

Ven’s silence, supplemented by the yellow bird’s furious chirping, said everything that Jacob needed to know.

“Ugh, fine! I’ll find some books or something when I get back home and find some cool names! Happy?”

Ven nods twice and the canary lets out an affirmative “cheep”.

* * *

Ven hums a little tune about the world. By the third repetition he’s somehow summoned a playful dolphin, and by his seventh there’s an entire pod of them. Even Locria can’t complain about his lack of magical and vocal prowess this time.

* * *

Jacob returns with the canary, newly christened Fritz.

“Why Fritz?”

“Because it’s a fitting name! The little guy’s energetic enough for that. Besides, Friedrich the Great is too long of a name, so I shortened it to Fritz.” The bird lets out a sharp chirp and attempts to flap his tied-up wings at the sound of his new name.

_...How did you get “Fritz” from “Friedrich the Great”? _

Ven settles for asking Jacob where he got the name “Friedrich the Great” from.

“...Uh… that’s kind of a funny story. You remember the guy I borrowed Grimm’s Tales from?” He begins.

“You technically stole it, I think, but yes…? What does that have to do with anything?” Ven asks.

Jacob shifts in place awkwardly. “Yeah… since we’re almost done with that one, I went back to check if he had anything else worth reading. There was another even older copy of Grimm’s Tales for some reason, and also a fuckton of random books.” The sylph takes a stance resembling those before his rants. “Seriously, what man owns a book on bird care - not that I’m not grateful that was there, of course - and puts it right next to a series on German military history, which is directly under what, five different manuals on how to repair an automobile? Who even reads those? Order your bookshelf properly, dammit! Even thinking about it is giving me a migraine, sheesh… Can sylphs even get migraines in first place?”

“Uh… again, what does that have to do with Fritz’s name?” Ven interrupts before Jacob can go off on another discourse/rant.

“Oh, yeah. So I got bored and started flipping through the history books, and turns out there was this cool dude called Friedrich who was super awesome and led Prussia into winning a ton of wars.” Jacob reaches into his messenger bag and pulls out a thick tome titled “ _ Deutschland: Eine Militärgeschichte (Band Vier) _ ”.  _ Wait, did Jacob steal that from the blond man too?! _ “I figured that my awesome bird should have a name as awesome as he is, so Fritz it is!” The canary chirps again. “See? He likes his name!”

“...Alright. Well then, Fritz, nice to meet you!”

Fritz lets out a happy trill.

* * *

The duo (well, trio, if you count Fritz) spend three days finishing off the last portion of Grimm’s tales. Jacob asks if Ven has any preferences on what he wants to read (hear, whatever) next, and Ven replies that anything that isn’t too boring is okay.

Two days later, Jacob returns with the canary in one hand and a volume of “ _ Geschichte von Venedig _ ” in his bag.

“I think you’ll like this,” says the sylph. “This book’s about Venice, or as you like to call it, Venezia. That’s the city that came before,” he explains as he sweeps his arms out at the city, “this.”

“Venezia?! That’s amazing, Jacob! Where did you find this?”

Jacob replies in a manner-of-fact fashion. “Two shelves and three layers above where I found the encyclopaedias.”

Confusion ensues on Ven’s part. “Uh… which is?”

“I think they’re on the shelf opposite the Grimm tales. I don’t remember that well though since the guy has a ridiculously big study with an illegal number of bookshelves, but if memory serves me correctly it should be in that sector dedicated to Italy.”  _ How is he so calm about this?! _

“...I thought you’d be all over yourself ranting about how unorganized and arbritary the book collections are.”

The sylph inhales deeply. “I’ve decided to not question it anymore. I have looked through his whole study, and I regret so many things. Hey Ven, did that mentor of yours tell you about anyone who could erase memories?”

“Uh… you should try finding the River Lethe? Phrygia mentioned a bear-panther-lion hybrid that can wipe its victim’s memories, but I’m less certain if that’s actually a thing, so...”  _ Just what did Jacob see? _

“Nice, I’ll keep that in mind. I only brought the first volume of the book because bringing all three would be taxing, but if there’s a specific part you want to know about Venice’s history tell me and I can skip to there, alright?”

“Thanks for the help, Jacob.”

The reading sessions between the sylph and the siren continue with a few interruptions from a canary.

* * *

An undine asks him for help in finding his playmates while playing hide and seek in the ruins of Venezia. He does it in under five minutes. 

Six minutes after the request, Ven gets banned from participating in the young sea dwellers’ games of hide and seek.

* * *

Time passes. 

The humans of Nuova Venezia get older. Jacob picks a fight with a phoenix, and they become fast friends. His doppelganger and the blond man remain the same, defying all expectations. Ven sees his first snow and hits his second season cycle. Jacob reaches his fourteenth. The merfolk get older. The pod of dolphins have new children, and the colony of angelfish multiplies by two.

* * *

One of the younger dolphins has taken to following Ven everywhere. And by everywhere, it means literally everywhere - to scavenge, to play, to singing practise, to reading sessions. It’s kind of cute, actually, but Ven has no idea how to take care of it - heck, he doesn’t even know its gender, and the only reason he can tell it apart from the others is because of a scar it got from one of its expeditions with the siren. Ven is trying (and failing) to convince it to return to the pod. Both Jacob and Fritz laugh (well, Fritz trills in a semi-sadistic fashion) at his struggles and make no attempts to help.

* * *

Time passes.

The unlikely trio finishes the trilogy on Venezia’s history, and move on to another set of fairy tales, this time by one “Hans Christian Andersen”. Shops, manned by the sea dweller, open in the ruins of Venezia, and Venezia reverts to a state that comes closer to the images Ven’s only ever seen in Jacob’s books.

* * *

“The little mermaid drew back the crimson curtain of the tent, and beheld the fair bride with her head resting on the prince’s breast. She bent down and kissed his fair brow, then looked at the sky on which the rosy dawn grew brighter and brighter; then she glanced at the sharp knife, and again fixed her eyes on the prince, who whispered the name of his bride in his dreams.” 

Jacob paused for suspense and dramatic effect before resuming the tale. “She was in his thoughts, and the knife trembled in the hand of the little mermaid: then she flung it far away from her into the waves; the water turned red where it fell, and the drops that spurted up looked like blood. She cast one more lingering, half-fainting glance at the prince, and then threw herself from the ship into the sea, and thought her body was dissolving into foam.”

By the end of the tale, Ven was in tears, and even Jacob looked a little melancholic.

“Hey, at least you have a soul and there’s no evil sea witch to make shady deals with you, right?”

“But… but the mermaid! She died for nothing!”

Ven doesn’t think he can ever look at the population of merfolk in New Atlantis the same way ever again.

* * *

Time passes. 

Fritz gets older and flies slower despite his perfectly healed wing. Locria doesn’t get older, but he certainly gets meaner. A few of the child undines move out to begin their coming of age rites. Sea dwellers move out of New Atlantis, and others move in to take their places.

* * *

“Take care, alright?”

“It’s dangerous out there, take this.”

“Remember to make sure you don’t eat toxic plants or fish, alright?”

“Be careful of the jellyfish and sharks, kiddo!”

“See you later, son!”

As the last of the young undines move out with their basic hunting equipment and supplies, the encouraging cries from their parents die out. Some of the undines, both the young and old, had requested Ven’s presence when seeing the younger ones off, since the siren had helped the undines a lot in scavenging for resources they would need for their expedition. Ven was, of course, most honored - not many outsiders got to witness these clanly rituals (according to Phrygia), especially an outsider as young as he.

Ven awaits the undines’ triumphant return.

* * *

Time passes.

Jacob’s mastery over the wind gets better and he picks a fight with a certain kangaroo-rabbit hybrid who interrupts a reading session and mistakes him for a winter sprite (again), and comes out triumphant. Ven gets traumatized by his first actual encounter with violence, and matures from the experience. Fritz gets into a fight with a baby phoenix, loses, and becomes friends with it, much like his caretaker before him.

* * *

The trio were sitting on a patch of rocky land nearer to the shore - spring was here, and both Ven and Jacob wanted to be closer to the colourful varieties of flowers growing near the streets of Nuova Venezia.

“Isn’t this part a lot like ‘ _ Beauty and the Beast’ _ ?” Ven points out. “See, the girl messes up, loses the Prince, and has to compensate for it, just like Beauty!”

“Eh, they’re fairytales, so some similarities can’t be avoided… Besides, I’m pretty sure this one came before _ ‘Beauty and the Beast’ _ \- hold on, lemme check.” Jacob flips to the last few pages of  _ “East of the Sun and West of the Moon” _ , and reveals that “No, it didn’t, never mind.”

Fritz chirps loudly, as if prompting the sylph to continue with the story.

Jacob clears his throat, and prepares to continue the story when a loud, gruff voice interrupts him. “Oi! Bugger! Didn’t I tell you not to get in the way of Easter preparations?”

Jacob stiffens. “Scheiße. Ven, look away.”

“Eh? Why?”

“This might get violent.”

"Jack, you fuckwit, you know you're not supposed to be here, its less than a week to Easter, and-"

"Who the fuck are you calling Jack, you arschgefickter overgrown wallaby?!" With a ferocious war cry, Jacob springs towards the tall creature, sharpened makeshift staff brandished towards their (His? Its?) chest. 

“FICK DICH!”

One would expect a spirit of the air to be gentle, and even if they fought, it would most likely be with elegance and grace. Jacob was different. Where a sylph's predominant fighting style would involve caution and skilful maneuvering of the wind, Jacob fought with pure brutality and force on par with the original Friedrich in some of Jacob's stories. 

What ensued next made Ven wish that he had followed the sylph's advice to close his eyes. He kind of wished he could close his ears, too.

The large creature attempted to dodge the obvious blow, but neglected Jacob's outstretched foot, tripping him as he tried to move. 

“Wha- quit it, ya violent drongo!”

The creature recovered quickly, but not quickly enough - as they hopped back upwards with a stream of near unintelligible profanity, a metal pole had been rammed into their side, followed by a hiss of pain and a violent combo of kicks, punches, thrusts, jabs, swings and the occasional blasts of sharp wind. Not all of Jacob’s hits landed, but those that did looked and sounded painful. 

The wallaby-lookalike wasn’t out of commission though - they tried to retaliate with boomerangs, explosives and their fists, but quickly scrapped the first two ideas as they realized that they were not efficient enough in intense close combat like this. Of course, bare fists were no match against a very sharp, very dangerous and very painful metal pole. The strange rabbit-like humanoid was vanquished in mere minutes.

_...wait, rabbit like? _

_ Didn’t Phrygia say something about- _

_ O, dio mio. _

“Ha, Knalltüte! Verpiss dich, du verdammter Arschficker, and never ever try to call me Jack again, you weak wittle wawwaby!” Jacob guffaws with one foot on the fallen creature’s back.

The aforementioned “wallaby” was out cold, with a little blood seeping out of his body.

“Uhm… Jacob?” Ven starts uncertainly. “You might want to call in that favour from your phoenix friend.”

“Haah? Why would I want to do that for this Arschloch?”

“I think… you just… uh... beat up the Easter Bunny while he was working.”

“What the…” The sylph facepalms. “Oh, fick mich in meinen Ziegenarsch.”

* * *

Time passes.

Jacob decides to "awesomely prank the people of Nuova Venezia" by blowing the tied-up gondolas out to sea, and Ven has to deal with the consequences. The undines have returned to New Atlantis. The elder sirenes haven’t shown up yet - there are letters, but they are not in New Atlantis in person - but Ven is confident that they will sometime soon. He’s willing to wait as much as he needs. After all, all he has is time.

* * *

_ Dearest Venny, _

_ How are you? We haven’t heard from you in so long! We miss both you and Locria so much, but we can’t come back just yet - little Kumatora needs all the care she can get for now, especially with her mother in critical condition… I hope you two will be able to meet each other someday! _

_ -Doria _

_ Anyways, we’ve heard that New Atlantis is flourishing! Doria and I bet that you had something to do with it, hmm~? We’ve heard good news from the family of mer who went to New Atlantis for a vacation, you know~ If that’s the case, keep up the good work, dearie! We believe in you! ♡ _

_ -Ionia _

_ Hello, Ven. Aeolia and Lydia are too busy taking care of Kumatora to write, but I’m sure they miss you just as much as the rest of us. Take care of yourself and remember to practise your singing and magic regularly! _

_ -Mixolydia _

_ How’s Locria treating you? I truly hope you are doing well. If there’s anything you need from us, whether it be resources, knowledge, or simply emotional support, please do not hesitate to write us a letter. Good luck in your endeavors in New Atlantis, Ven. _

_ -Phrygia _

* * *

Ven has all the time in the world. Ven has more time than he knows what to do with. The same cannot be said of Fritz, however.

* * *

Time passes.

Ven receives a painful reminder that not everything is immortal and eternal, that sometimes the most beautiful and treasured things are transient because their transience is what makes them shine. Ven realizes for good that day that life is more than just happiness and lazy lethargy.

* * *

“...Amen.”

Ven and Jacob face the front of a small little wooden box. Said box was of a size just fit for a canary. Specifically, Fritz, who was in a crudely made coffin.

Jacob had found the unexpectedly old canary barely alive when he woke up that morning, and had tried to rush him to a phoenix in Poland - but it was too late. Fritz had died in his hands when he was a little over halfway there. The sylph had, for lack of a better option, turned course and headed for New Venice.

That was the first time Ven had encountered death up close.

Wishing to never encounter it ever again was foolish, was unrealistic, was impossible. But it was too painful, too sorrowful for Ven to do anything else.

Jacob had told the siren that he had chosen to inform Ven before actually burying the little canary back in its home forest, because both Jacob and Ven saw the once-loud bird as a friend - no, as family, and Ven deserved to see him off one last time in person.

Scooping up the lightly-coloured petite wooden box, Jacob waved goodbye to Ven, who returned the gesture, albeit with much less cheer and more melancholy than usual on both ends.

* * *

Time passes.

Jacob tells Ven that he’s begun to make regular visits to the forest where Fritz once resided. The canaries love him and he loves them back, but he forces himself to not get attached. Ven does the same to the many dolphins that visit him. He forces himself to distance himself from the older, more scarred ones, and pretends to not notice when a particularly dark dolphin with a unique streak-like scar disappears from the pod the next summer. He lets the (more long-lived) population of New Atlantis distract him with mundane requests and questions instead.

* * *

Ven has become the de facto go-to person whenever anyone in New Atlantis needs help with virtually anything. 

The mermaid wants to find some nice jewelry to impress her crush? Ven tells her to go straight and take a turn to the left, the third store from there has a bigger and more tasteful collection than the first even if the shop looks dingy -  _ no, really! _

The selkie lost her pelt? Ven says that it’s probably around ninety tail lengths or so over in that direction over there -  _ trust me on this one, my gut feelings are pretty accurate! How did you lose your sealskin, anyway? _

The kappa wants to eat cucumber but has no idea where to find it? Don’t worry, Ven can definitely get one for them even though those shouldn’t even be in New Atlantis at all (a shopkeeper on land dropped one in the sea a few hours ago).

_ How do you know so much, Big Brother Ven? _ Asks one of the sea-dwelling children. 

Others follow up with similar comments.  _ It’s like you know everything about New Atlantis! Are you magically connected to it or something? _

_ It’s a secret, of course~!  _ is Ven’s reply.

Well, mystery would be more appropriate, given the fact that even Ven doesn’t know how he does it, but the children don’t need to know that. But the more thinks about it, the more Ven is convinced that the children might be right.

But that can’t be, right? He’s a siren. Sirenes can’t be connected to the land they live on. That’ just not what they do.   
  


So Ven stops thinking about it entirely.

* * *

Ven lives another ten seasons. 

Time passes, decade after decade. Venezia changes. Nuova Venezia changes. New Atlantis changes. 

Buildings are torn down and replaced with others, in both realms. Inhabitants of the underwater city (capital, now) come and go, whether by choice or by death. 

Even if the strange, seemingly long-lived humans stay, they change. Their personalities become less sharp and more accepting, resigning, even, and Ven isn’t sure if he should be happy about that development. 

Even Jacob, immortal as he is, changes. He becomes more cynical and cruel over the years, albeit not outright malicious, and relaxes when he’s around Ven, but that’s about it. Ven wonders if that’s how some infamously malicious spirits came to be, and wishes that Jacob doesn’t end up as one of them. 

The elder sirenes seem to be frozen in time, like Ven, but he knows deep down that they are all changing. 

By the time Ven realizes that he’s less optimistic and selflessly giving as before, it’s already too late for him to panic over it, so he just silently sits down, accepts the fact, and swims with it.

What else can he do?

* * *

When Ven is sent an invitation to the Atlantean Empire by its queen, he is already over a century old. It’s due to his accomplishments in vitalizing New Venezia from scratch. (Heh. he did nothing big, yet everyone around him tended to praise him for it anyway. Why?) Even then, his status is equal to that of the Queen in all but name, thanks to his make-believe achievements.

He actually contemplates accepting the offer.  _ The elder sirenes still haven’t returned - have they forgotten about me? No, that wasn’t it, the letters still arrive on time… But still… Do they not like me anymore? No, that can’t be  _ \- But still, visiting them would be nice, even if it was just to get Locria off his case for a moment or two. 

Wow, young me would be downright offended, if not absolutely betrayed.

Surely, Jacob wouldn’t have a problem with it - he can fly far enough, can get to Italy from Germany in minutes, can do loop-de-loops around the world several times a day if he so wished - getting to Atlantis would be a piece of cake for him.

Even so, as Ven prepares to write back to the queen, he can’t bring himself to do it. What’s stopping him? The other sirenes won’t have a problem with it, the residents of New Atlantis can handle themselves just fine, Jacob can handle himself beyond fine, and Ven knows Locria well enough to know that he sure as hell won’t have a problem with it. 

So, what’s stopping him?

He is. For some stupid reason, he can’t bring himself to - just  _ can’t _ \- leave both Venezias alone. He knows that they’ll be fine, even better than before, actually, yet he can’t leave, doesn’t want to leave. Even with the strong temptation of the Queen’s letter, his decision remains unswayed.

Ven and the Queen exchange correspondence numerous times, yet neither party has successfully convinced the other to visit in person. Ven’s sure that she feels that sense of connection with her land, as well. Why else would she be so adamant in staying in Atlantis?

But no matter what, Ven’s staying. It’s his duty to watch over Venezia and its above-water counterpart, after all.   
  


No matter what happens, Ven will always be there for Venezia. His birthplace, his home, his heart. Venezia is Ven, and Ven is Venezia. Venezia, whether new or old, is the thing he treasures most - the land, the constructs, the people - all of it. No matter how much time passes, as long as he still exists, that will never change.

He will never leave Venezia.


	2. Appendix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supplementary Information, explanations and the like...?

  1. The difference between mermaids and sirenes(in common mythology) is that the former are birthed through peaceful deaths whereas the latter are born from violent, watery deaths. Veneziano, having the sea flooding into his heart over a span of decades, definitely counts into the latter category.
  2. The seven named sirenes’ names are from the Magypsies of MOTHER 3. Aeolia, Doria, Ionia, Locria, Lydia, Mixolydia, Phrygia. These names are in turn based off of the seven musical modes (Just add -n behind each of the names). It helps that Ven’s original name (Venezia) also ends with “a”, and the word “Venezian” does exist, even if the technical spelling should be “Venetian”.
  3. Magical creatures function much like those in Rise of the Guardians - in three words, believing is seeing. If humans believe you, they see you. If they don't believe in you/don’t know of you, then they’re not likely to do so - it’s simple as that.
  4. Regarding Nuova Venezia: What little of Venice’s civilization that remained after the flooding is here. It’s quiet and dreary, as opposed to the original Venice - hard not to be, when there’s little to do, and in such a small place. Most of the territory is water, whether it be sea, rivers or makeshift canals.
  5. Ven doesn’t take well to the sirenes taking advantage of Venezia, since that’s basically the equivalent of them pillaging his house. he gets over it quickly, though.
  6. Ven and Jacob have less magic due to their reincarnations as Nations. They've been alive for a long, long time, so they cling onto their beliefs harder subconsciously (that magic isn't possible), so they tend to have difficulty casting magic. Plus, both Italy and Prussia (as the Teutonic Knights and St Maria Order) were very religious (and against the supernatural as a result), which contributes even more to this point. Their reincarnation is also the reason for some of their stranger mannerisms near the beginning (trying to walk, tripping, etc.).
  7. The first song Ven sings is Torna a Surriento. For all you Hetalia cultists out there, he sings Marukaite Chikyuu a little later, so don’t worry about it, the natural order of the world has not been unbalanced.
  8. The nations are visiting Nuova Veneziano for Veneziano's funeral, since that was his heart. Cameoed nations include: France, England, Russia, Canada, Moldova, the Netherlands, Denmark (who actually appears later on). 
  9. Andersen - the author of Andersen’s Tales, one of the most famous stories in it being The Little Mermaid. Take it as homage to the video of Veneziano’s _Chikyuu Saigo no Kokuhaku wo (The World’s Last Confession)_ Hetaloid PV, as well as its sequel _Usotsuki no Sekai (A Liar’s World)_ , by the talented Hotaru (tuning) and Suigyoku (art), as the book appears in the PV.
  10. The naming relationship between the Nordics is beyond convoluted - so much that Himaruya-sama has an official chart for it, and it’s _translated._ The ones mentioned in the fic are: **Norge** (Denmark to Norway), **Den/bror** (Norway to Denmark), **Ta** (Finland to Denmark), **Norja** (Finland to Norway), **Sverige/Sve** (Denmark to Sweden), **Fin** (Denmark to Finland), **Dan** (Iceland to Denmark) and **Nore** (Iceland to Norway). Cameos in this section are Mr. Puffin, Hanatamago and Estonia.
  11. Jacob is Prussia, in case you haven’t noticed. Jacob is derived from Jacob Grimm, the elder author of the Grimm Tales. Letting him name himself Gilbert would be too easy on him. You know what they say - be cruel to the ones you hate, and be downright sadistic to the ones you love. Am I right, or am I right?
  12. As Jacob implies later, he found the copy of Grimm Tales on Germany’s bookshelf. It’s the antiquated version, second only to the uncensored one we see in the webcomic (the one Prussia reads to an ailing Holy Roman Empire). Germany’s bookshelf contains many other wonders, including books on politics, books on economics, books on BDSM, books on geography, books on interacting with Italians, books about Italy, books about leadership, books on empathy, books on homosexual sex, one of Prussia’s many diaries and a sea of manuals, collected from different sources over the centuries.
  13. Thanks to their supernatural origins, Ven and Jacob can understand Supernatural (name definitely pending, would it even have a name? Let’s call it Common eh) Common, but they can also understand Italian and German respectively because they were reincarnated from nations and you tend to remember things you’ve been doing for millennia.
  14. Jacob knows what a funeral is because of his extensive reading from Germany’s Very Helpful and Convenient Bookshelf™. No, really - if you’re a supernatural creature with no idea what the hell is happening with humans and their “memes”, go raid Germany’s bookshelf. There are books on all aspects of humanity, ranging from behavioural psychology, history, social systems, etc. (although the reliability of the former is debatable). As long as you can read fluently in German, English and Italian, you can take over the world as you please (if it does not involve Italians, because all his Italian-related books are dubious at best and downright wrong at worst).
  15. Ven subconsciously recognizes the funeral as “for him”, so that’s why he has that kind of thought process despite having only one friend and no experiences with death. Jacob empathizes with this for similar reasons (his death as Prussia). 
  16. Jacob is also more willing to travel around outside Germany as he was an ex-nation when he died, and as such he has a weaker connection with his land. His status as a free air spirit further drives this home. But still, the mental struggle exists - to stay where he feels most at home at, or to succumb to wanderlust?
  17. Emphasis on the moon: this serves as a cameo to the Man in the Moon from the Rise of the Guardians movie, who was in charge of reviving Jack as a spirit. Does he have a hand in Ven and Jacob’s situation? That’s open to interpretation, of course. The Man in the Moon also has a role in the original book (Guardians of Childhood series), but his role there has less to do with the reincarnation/revival aspect.
  18. The gondola Germany and Japan are on belonged to Veneziano. Two guys on a gondola, five feet apart because even if you’re gay you’re actually gay for your dead ally and not the one right next to you. Said ally is watching you from the depths of the ocean. Is Jacob there? He’s there in spirit only because Core Axis Solidarity, sadly. Where is Jacob, then? Off ransacking Germany’s bookshelf, of course.
  19. The Epic Gondola Cosmic Latte Scene™ was based off of a scene in Dolfin, where Veneziano (as his human counterpart Feliciano) pulls the exact same stunt with Germany. The doujinshi itself hurts like a bitch (the feels oW), and I strongly recommend it to all Gerita shippers.
  20. Locria’s mirror: I originally intended for Locria to be a purebred asshole through-and-through, but somehow he turned out to be an insecure, armored and closeted rude guy with low self-esteem. Whoops. Now being an asshole isn’t his way of life, it’s a defense mechanism. You’re supposed to be a dick, Locria! What happened?! Don’t run away from my characterization!!!
  21. Even though Ven can read Italian, he doesn’t realize it because he’s doing it subconsciously, and still doesn’t have a firm grasp on the concept of “languages”.
  22. Ven’s inbuilt knowledge of the layout of Venezia is thanks to his ex-nation status. It won’t be hyperbole to say that the city is bending itself to his will.
  23. All hail the supernatural book club, where 95% of the shit they read is German and the rest are picture books with text they can’t understand. Genres vary.
  24. Romano acts cordial as a form of repression. Ven knows this because of their brotherly bond from before he died.
  25. The ribbon - in the Italian Tricolour, of course.
  26. Romano’s frustration takes the form of very violent Italian swearing ripped straight from rudimentary Google searches because it makes me sound 10x more serious and posh until a native speaker comes in. Then I’m a laughingstock. Just call it the Anger Phase of the Stages of Grief, or something.
  27. The sirenes (especially Locria) play the role of that one music teacher who contradicts their own advice and gives unreasonable requests frequently.
  28. Jacob mentions a winter sprite and a “wallaby-kangaroo-rabbit thing”. Those are cameos to Jack Frost and Bunny (E. Aster Bunnymund) from Rise of the Guardians. Bunny does not take well to Jack being in the vicinity when Easter is about to begin because he ruined it once and nearly killed him via lack of believers.
  29. Wolpertingers: insanely cute rabbit-deer-squirrel-pheasant-gender-neutral-chibi things. No, really. Some interpretations add chickens, wolves, jackalopes, etc. to the mix. They are said to bring good luck to those who see it, but in my opinion seeing it is already a huge stroke of luck - it’s just too damn cute.
  30. Nachtkrapps: literally translated as “night bird”, they’re basically giant ravens/crows. They can stare people to death, cause diseases, abduct and eat children, scare children into going to bed and sing children to sleep (on rare occasions). The perfect babysitter.
  31. You’ve seen Romano’s ridiculously gratuitous Italian, now get ready for Jacob’s horrendously gratuitous German. Also 90% ripped straight from Google Translate. Someone get the native speakers to shame me.
  32. Clarification: Jacob wields a shiphook, because it’s a reasonable thing to find underwater and also because I was too lazy to google up any other plausible weapons. Just picture it as a hooked staff or something. Also, I have no idea how the ribbonwork would go. Don’t try the ribbonwork at home, and never slam anybody’s face in with a shiphook, even if it’s your own - especially if it’s your own. Feel free to beat anyone into a bloody pulp with a boathook if they try anything indecent on you, though. Do that and tell me, and I will shower you with love, praise and virtual cookies (no, please don’t, violence is never the answer unless it is).
  33. Romano prays Our Father on the beach. I hope this is right, because I wasn’t using Google Translate for this one. The very obvious cameo in the next scene is Spain, and their actions can be interpreted as platonic, storgic or romantic depending on the time of day, the glasses you’re wearing, the angle at which you read the fic, and approximately one hundred and fifty one other factors.
  34. Ven and Jacob just want to be seen. D’aaaaw… fuck no. Jack had to sit through that angst for three hundred years, now you have to too.
  35. Ven and Jacob spying on their brothers trying to have a tense, strained, civil and awkward-as-shit conversation and realizing that they have zero social skills to speak of - Season 1 Episode 1.
  36. Merfolk vs Sirenes: In this AU, merfolk are not immortal (although they have a lifespan of centuries) whereas sirenes are. There are, however, more merfolk since they can reproduce as well as being reincarnated into the species, whereas sirenes must be reincarnated into the species, under strict conditions (death by seawater, strong-willed). Combined with their immortality, this also makes sirenes more malicious, compared to the merfolk, who are more naive and benign, thanks to their pacifist roots and lack of life experience. There’s also a small difference in their quality of singing. Humans physically cannot hear it, but by rule of thumb, siren song is more magically potent and of better quality than mer singing. Think of it in terms of the difference between Twoset Violin and Hilary Hahn.
  37. The “dragonfly chameleon hummingbird woman” is a cameo of Toothiana (the Tooth Fairy) from Rise of the Guardians.
  38. The sirenes leave to take care of their cousin, Kumatora. She is named after one of the deuteragonists of MOTHER 3, and was raised by their canon counterparts, the Magypsies. Kumatora is a mer/siren hybrid, and hence was born and not spawned like Ven.
  39. Locria is an ass, pt. 2: babies must either sing or be able to screech in tune. That's a basic requirement for child sirenes, because there _are_ no child sirenes - once again, they’re all spawned. His temper is worsened by the absence of his siblings, of course. Speaking of siblings...
  40. Sirenes cannot be born, only spawned. Then why siblings? My explanation was that they spawned close together in a small time frame, so they had to rely on each other for an extended period of time, like siblings.
  41. Fritz the canary: Naming him Gilbird would be too easy on Jacob. I’m not sure how bird first-aid works, so correct me if I’m wrong. Fritz is from Old Fritz, a nickname for Friedrich the Great, the King of Prussia and also Prussia’s idol. 
  42. A colony of phoenixes to the northwest of Italy: This refers to Poland, not anywhere else - this is due to symbolism and the fact that Poland was basically under constant attack and was partitioned several times, but somehow managed to be revived each time, akin to the revival of a phoenix.
  43. Ven summons dolphins: homage to Dolfin, the doujinshi that sparked this whole fic to begin with.
  44. The “bear-lion-panther thing” is a glawackus. It can wipe memory on eye contact. Using it as a substitute for brain bleach is ill-advised. 
  45. Text for The Little Mermaid ripped off a Google Query. Don’t judge me, please.
  46. The lifespan of a typical roller canary is around 10 years, and they usually live longer, depending on their living conditions. In other words, Fritz is older than Ven.
  47. Undines… probably don’t work like that. Undines are generally your typical “water spirit”, something more on par with nymphs and naiads. Most people would recognize “undines” from the Undertale character, Undyne. That’s also why they’re considerably tougher than general interpretations of them.
  48. Australian profanity is also ripped from - you guessed it - Google.
  49. Jacob’s prank was very nearly “throw glitter literally everywhere”. It would probably kill a third of the underwater population via asphyxiation or pollution, so I took that back.
  50. Don’t question the cucumber. Just… don’t. Please.
  51. Ven turns more pessimistic and cynical towards the end of the story, because time will do that to anyone. By that point, he should be at least a century old. Jacob probably won’t convert to being a malevolent spirit as long as Ven is there to tether him to sanity. But then, that kind of mental state coupled with that kind of power is very dangerous indeed.
  52. The Queen was the personification of Atlantis before her reincarnation. Her species, age, appearance, etc. is unknown because she’s technically a full OC and I would like to try and minimize the screen time of those as much as possible while still trying to make them look not disposable.
  53. Yes, the plot does not resolve itself because in real life, many things rarely do. Especially for someone immortal, like Ven. People only tie up many of their loose ends in life then it’s almost over, so when would that happen for someone who will literally never die? My best attempt to offer you closure: Ven and Jacob live on as immortals, and have a relatively peaceful life (for supernatural beings, that is). Thanks to having the other to rely on, they never truly “go insane” like other malevolent beings, and they certainly won’t try to die, unless they do it together. They’ll live for millennia, and as Ven gains the will to travel (maybe in a thousand years or so, maybe never, or maybe when he has the ability to travel fast enough to return to Venezia when his homesickness acts up), they’ll explore the world together and witness the rise and fall of the world, or even worlds, whether it be by their own two eyes or by the mouth of Jacob. They’ll probably never remember their nation comrades, but it’s okay. As long as there is land, as long as humans still cling to the concept of nations, the duo will walk alongside their former allies and rivals, for better or for worse, even if they don’t realize it. And maybe, just maybe, when the end of civilization approaches, snuffed out by the very hands that created it in first place, the nations will die off, and reincarnate and reunite with each other in the realm of fantasy. ...wow, that was poetic.



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Thank you for reading this far!

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**OMAKE:**

A siren and a sylph are travelling down the waterways of what once used to be Berlin.

"So, what did you call me out here for? I do have duties to do as their 'monarch', so I don't have a lot of time to spare, Jacob." Ven questions, uncharacteristically impatient.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." The half-manic air spirit pauses, eyes narrowing. "You never use your position as an excuse to not hang out, Ven. What happened?"

Ven hesitates, but decides to spit out the truth. "The soldiers found someone who was a spitting image of me down in South Venezia. You'll think I'm insane, but..." Before he can bring himself to continue, Jacob is already nodding in understanding. 

"...The guy from New Venezia, right?" 

Ven lets out an affirmative hum. "Yeah... I want to get back to him as soon as possible. He was passed out on the rocks, so going back to take care of him would be for the best. I want to make sure he's okay."

A snort from Jacob. "How noble of you, o wise ruler. Besides, if you're insane, then what am I?" The duo slowly come to a stop by the back, and the current monarch of New Atlantis calls for a wave of water to lift him upwards and onto land. 

Against all odds, he is greeted by another familiar face.

Golden, cropped hair, pale skin, strong muscles, tough build. 

Those features were obscured and twisted by the small bits of rock-like material jutting out of his flesh, but they were distinguishable nonetheless.

Those were features he could never forget.

Just like a phantom of the past, but , evidently, no longer a phantom of the past.

Even if his eyes were closed, Ven can picture the exact hue of stormy gray-blue in his mind's eye.

Jacob's voice brings him back to reality. "-ound him just lying on the floor like that, which is why I asked you for medical supplies. Could you...?"

Snapping out of his funk, Ven passes the requested items to the sylph, who begins to administer first aid - something that was apparently unnecessary, as the figure on the floor flinched at the touch of cold cloth, and wrestled his eyes open.

Even after so many centuries, that exquisite shade of metallic blue had never changed.

"...You are...!"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go to silveryyy for proofreading/betaing!
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcomed!


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